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I'm trying to understand why the physical condition of the Japanese city is progressively approaching a state of collective ugliness. Ugliness which comes from the accumulation of chaotic fragmentation - of parts that do not add up to make a cohesive whole. In residential areas of Tokyo, for example, houses are built up to its property boundary, its form stating individuality, but with no concern for the adjacent neighbor's. So when you see the entire neighborhood, the whole appears to resemble a disparate assembly, an aggregation of introverted boxes, mute and unfriendly. Ugliness comes from this crowded indifference to a common aesthetic in our daily surroundings. In fact, who cares about the common spaces outside our sealed boxes?
This topic is actually a very complex one and will certainly occupy your life-time to discuss. So here, I first want to introduce the fact that I have this concern. Then, I also want to initially introduce the notion of "common" or "collectivity" as a way of thinking about how we can make our cities and neighborhoods a better place to live.
The concept of "common" is integrally related to the form of towns and neighborhoods. In Japan, however, this concept is elusive and enigmatic. Being such, it is no surprise then that the common form of our built surroundings are similarly elusive and enigmatic. But let's for a moment, take up the matsuri in traditional Japanese culture and see where we can go from there in this discussion.....
At times of the matsuri, the seasonal traditional festivals throughout Japan, one sees the union of people, the collective energies of a town coalesce with the time-honored ritual of celebration. A common wish for divine blessings towards a good harvest, good fishing, and safeguarding of their community prevail. The elders pass down the rituals to the next generation, a common tradition is recognized and sustained. Three generations share in the common heritage of their property, life-work and nature's resource. The beauty of these matsuri performances lie in seeing the raw physical and emotional intensity, solidarity and the depth of meaning for which each and all give their ultimate commitment. There is, symbolized in the form of the temple, the mikoshi and various matsuri constructions, a collective formal display, resplendent and commonly owned. The culture of "common" and "collectivity" unmistakably exist and has endured over time.
While we may draw inferences from this analogy to that of a common commitment required in making the concerted form of our towns, what interests me for this discussion, is the aspect of phenomenology of the matsuri, its unique occurrence in form, time and space. The most familiar form of the matsuri are transient in nature, existing in temporary place (even the temple precinct where many of the festivals occur revert back to their usual form for the rest of the year) and time - no trace left once the event is over. Even the formal displays are stored away, hidden from the daily environment as life goes back to normal until another year.
In other words, this most evident concept of "common" manifest in the matsuri exists for a fleeting occurrence, not for a physically permanent construction. The question I raise is this: can the Japanese agrarian culture whose "collective" energies were traditionally attuned solely to nature's passage of time and temporal appeasement with the gods now in contemporary times find consensus in the "commonality" of building a wholistic, perennial community form?
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